Are you holding Court ? (Snap my choker)
by Miss-shiva-adler
Summary: London, 1994, Ragnor takes Magnus out for a well-deserved night off. A night where Magnus gets to fuck a bunch other men, werewolves and warlocks and work on a particular sex magic ritual with none other than John Constantine.


Shadowhunters Bingo │ 2019-2020 │Square : Pentagrams

**Title:** Are you holding Court ? (Snap my choker)

**Rating:** NC-17

**Ship:** Ragnor Fell/Magnus Bane, John Constantine/Magnus Bane, Other Male Characters/Magnus Bane

**Summary:** London, 1994, Ragnor takes Magnus out for a well-deserved night off.

**Tags:** PWP, Gangbangs, blow jobs, Dominion Magic, Sex magic, public sex, club sex, unsafe sex, unprotected sex, kissing, hair pulling, face fucking, throat fucking, cock worship, come swallowing, come play, frottage, intercrural sex, Anal fingering, clothed sex, D/s Undertones, size kink, Implied/referenced substance abuse, Implied/referenced alcohol abuse, implied/referenced past toxic relationship, Fishnets, Punk rock, nipple piercings, Slut Magnus, chokers, demon dicks, asphyxiation

**Notes:** There is a Trans character wearing a strap-on/packer in this fic (he is one of the guys who is gonna get his dick sucked by Magnus). There is also a another guy that Magnus is gonna suck off who has inhaled and will inhale more poppers. There is a reference to Magnus using drugs but in this fic he is sober. There are demonic dicks involved and one of them is huge.

Ragnor and Magnus are in a queer platonic relationship

Talking to Saeth does bad things to me so here I am writing about some Dominion Magic and John Constantine.

* * *

He had slept with Camille again. It had been quick, fast. She had been teasing, humiliating, made fun of him. He had snapped. Thrown her on his desk. Fucked her, kissed her, given himself over to her. He didn't whisper 'I love you' or 'please' anymore, he had moaned against her mouth. Let her in, under his skin, let himself be vulnerable. She crushed him every time, used him, with a coy smile on the side of her lips and tugs on the strands of his hairs. She got herself off, rode him, fucked him twice. But fucked him thrice over. Discarded him like he was nothing, glad she still had him in her thrall. She would laugh, rub salt in the fresh wounds he kept on picking at every time he would search and seek her out. And he let her. Because he still had feelings for her. His heart hadn't healed and he had the feeling it would never heal. His heart was shredded, never to be picked up and glued together again.

He pulled his dance partner closer to him. His body moved and swayed from side to side, the rhythm prickled his skin, he ground his ass against his dance partner behind him. He let his hand travel over the body of the other one on his right, caress the stubble on the jaw, feel the muscle, feel the skin. He grabbed the lapel of the guy on his left, a red haired cutie Ragnor had chosen for him because he had looked so insecure on the dancefloor. But that was before Magnus had come up to him. He kissed him, let his tongue dart past the lips, let himself relish in the moment, enjoying the wetness of the forked tongue that explored his mouth in response. They stopped dancing as Magnus ravaged the mouth under his lips. Hands were groping him, twisted underneath his clothes, caressed his muscles and played with the piercings of his nipples. Hands were on his ass. Hard clothed cocks were rubbing against his hips. Magnus felt himself float.

He broke the kiss to seek another mouth. A man taller than him had joined the fray. Magnus snuck his way to the nape of the man's neck, pulled him down and immediately deepened the kiss. A taloned hand was on his ass. His tongue swiped at the other's lips. There was a groan and Magnus smiled against the guy's mouth. He stopped after the third moan to chase for another kisser; he found a target rather quickly, they all wanted to kiss him. He breathed hard as their breaths intermixed, the scent of poppers was on this man's tongue. Magnus ground his hips against the leg that was in between his… _Maybe next time_. He had promised Ragnor he would stay sober tonight. Magnus lapped at the lips, the kiss turned sloppy and hazy, while Magnus moved his hips, let the other bodies rut against him. He was so hard already.

And that's why he wanted _more_.

He tugged at what he could find, lapels, hands, belts, anything. He used his magic to push the others in the same direction. Just to the side of the dancefloor where they would not be too much in the way, enough for them to have the room and enough to give a view. There were seven of them. Hard, wanting, desiring and seeking _him _and only_ him_.

The ifrit pushed him to his knees. The others gathered around. Magnus felt his heart hammer in his chest as the taloned hand lost itself in his hair, tugged hard, made him wince, made him moan. He smelled the burnt scent of the ifirit's skin. He couldn't keep himself from biting his lip as he felt what the man was packing underneath the clothes. But first he wanted one of the werewolves. Their eyes were gleaming green and Magnus knew they were just as eager as him when he heard them growl. He reached out for a belt. The hand in his hair let him go. He helped the first one to lower his boxers. It was too dark and the lights were too flickering for him to make out the fine details but when that cock sprung free he felt his mind reset to zero.

He let his mouth enclose around the head, while his hand worked around the base of the shaft. He didn't let himself play. He wanted to show off. He swallowed the man whole. The shaft slid with ease through the confinements of his mouth, stopped right before the knot. He felt the rumble in the man's chest through his whole body. Hands gripped at his hair. He relaxed as the man just _pushed_ his throat against his cock. Wanting him to swallow more, but knowing all that Magnus was anatomically unable to. Magnus felt himself constrict, gag, his whole body high strung on trying to breathe through his nose. The hands released him and he came back up, lips and mouth absolutely spit slicked. Tears had welled up at the corner of his eyes.

He groaned and turned his head to reach out for another cock, another werewolf. He let his tongue play with the slit as his hand reached for another shaft. It was thick and broad. He felt the hissing of the warlock as Magnus worked the foreskin over the head. He massaged the testicles of the drug induced mundane with the plump mouth and colored contacts. The music guided his tongue as he licked the underside of the cock between his lips. Several different hands were in his hair again. He felt his eyes roll back in head, his cock twitching heavily between his legs. The hands on the nape of his neck encouraged him to continue, urged him forward. He braced himself onto his knees to have more leverage to let his mouth sink down on the cock. It tasted thoroughly amazing and so carnal he couldn't withstand to keep in another muffled moan. A strong hand enclosed his and helped him pump up the cock in his hand. He heard the groan of the mundane as Magnus's fingers massaged his perineum and fondled his balls.

With one smooth move he let the cock pop out of his mouth. The man visibly found it extremely obscene judging by the vocal Scottish swearing that followed the movement. He tried on urging Magnus to take him back to his mouth. But the warlock refused, he stuck out his tongue to let the werewolf rut against his flattened tongue. Magnus took in the pre-seminal fluid, relished in the taste of it. He couldn't exactly distinguish the other guy's eyes but he could see the flash of green again. There was almost a whine coming from the guy's lips as Magnus toyed with him, licked but never quite taking it in. He looked over to the warlock that was fucking into their joined fists. That guy was close. He had his long forked tongue licking and whipping around furiously as if on edge.

Magnus took pity on the werewolf who was clearly whining underneath his tongue. Magnus took him in, making sure his lips were tight. More swearing followed and a hand joined Magnus' up and down movement. He felt the whole shaft tighten and swell. He readied himself to welcome the load that was about to ejaculate in thick wet spurts into his mouth.

Magnus drank it all in, he didn't want to spill one single drop. The taste was sharp and strong. It was filling and when the hand on the shaft squeezed the last remains upon his flat tongue, Magnus wondered if he would have taken more than just semen had he been more drunk or intoxicated. Magnus turned himself at the hissing sound on his left, toward the warlock. He teased the head with just his lips as the rhythm of their hands became erratic. He lapped at the scaled ridged cock and Magnus slapped the hands away so he could let the warlock slide in his mouth. He could feel the semen pour down his throat almost immediately. He recognized the demonic language that was praising and thanking him. Magnus looked up and the warlock shivered as Magnus let a hit of teeth scrape against the oversensitive shaft that left his mouth. He liked to play and this time a little bit more, a little bit longer.

"You're welcome," Magnus said in the demonic language of Dagon. There was a hint of surprise on the warlock's face but he acknowledged Magnus' attempt at speaking it. His accent had probably been awful.

A thumb on his jaw drew Magnus' attention immediately to another cock pushing against his cheeks. He glanced at the warlock one last time before swallowing the insisting, greedy mundane down. They all wanted his tongue and hands on them and it was _wonderful. _Magnus tugged at the testicles and he could feel the jolt and pleasure the mundane was getting out of it as his mouth was met with a bucking of the hips. Magnus moved the shaft in between his lips with smooth sliding movements. This one was slightly more curved to the side. He grabbed another cock with his free hand while pumping the one in his mouth. That upward stroke was driving the guy over the roof. He felt a watch scrape the side of his ear cuff by accident as the hands held Magnus' shoulders tightly. Magnus looked up and the guy had his face tilted backwards.

He was ready to burst. Renewed energy coursed through Magnus' veins and he sped up, wanting this man to come hard and fast. He bobbed his head, swallowed what he could and soon the solvent smell of poppers hit his nose again. The guy kept the inhalator close to his nose. The flood of semen made Magnus choke as the guy emptied himself in a clear and loud growl. Fuck. That felt so good.

This guy was still floating in a haze of pleasure while Magnus played with what was given to him before swallowing deep. He gave a last squeeze to those lovely testicles then pushed the man a bit backwards to give space to someone else. Because he was craving more, craving to feel good and wanting. To be used and get his throat abused. He wanted them to love _him_, revere _him_. Even if it was just for a little while. Even if it was just for tonight. He wanted them to come apart and _thank him_, remember _him_.

The hard silicone dried his mouth out immediately. He felt his mouth fall open wide as the other mundane seemed to just get a go at him. Magnus groaned. The taloned hand against his scalp forced his head backwards so that the cock would just go deeper every time it went through the tight breach of his lips. He couldn't breathe. His hands grabbed onto any piece of clothing he could get a grip on. This was hard, fast, hot, because every single finger or talon in his hair prevented him from moving, because they were all of a sudden teaming up on him, enclosing him. The rhythm changed and the sudden short thrusts made it hard for Magnus to breathe. He felt his throat burn from the fact that this man was fucking his throat without taking his cock out at all. He whined, moaned, hummed against the movement as the gripping of his hair encouraged him to relax his throat. He felt his eyes cry. There was cursing again. Cocks pushed against his cheeks. The taloned hand of the ifrit spread warmth through his body. It reminded Magnus of how he himself was just leaking and straining against his clothes. _Fuck_. He'd let Ragnor choose the next guy he was going to fuck after he was done with them all.

Magnus felt his mind go blank as he leaned into them, all of them. His hands were about to go limp against the rubber and latex the other man was wearing. The heat, the warmth, he was unable to keep his lips over his teeth. The onslaught was hard and made his jaw ache. He knew he could come from this, untouched, unattended for. He would if he had been seeking the release of it but not right _now_, that was a reward for later. The trusts became uncoordinated and the mundane parted his lips before shuddering to completion. Magnus' blinked away tears and dried off his mouth with the back of his hand. The overflow of saliva that had drooled all over the corners of his mouth had already made its way down his chin, down his top, through the holes of his body stocking underneath.

Magnus watched how that previously shy guy tucked himself back in his trousers and winked at him. It was always the quiet and reserved ones. They would always ruin him to the ground. Too bad Magnus didn't catch the color of his eyes.

He was reminded of the strain of his knees when suddenly the ifrit dragged him back to reality. The burnt smell of wood and fire invaded Magnus' olfactory senses as soon as his face was harshly pressed against the ifrit's thigh.

This guy was _massive_.

He whined uncontrollably. By Lilith, this was going to be the death of him. _And he couldn't wait to get his mouth around that_. He writhed, inhaled the deep and intoxicating scent before rearranging himself on his knees. The sting and pain was licking at his bones.

The ifrit was visibly planning to be gentler. Magnus stuck out his tongue as an invitation. He licked that dark onyx member from root to tip. There was so much ground to cover. So much to _taste_. It was smoother than expected, stickier. He snapped his fingers, signaling the two last werewolves to let Magnus jerk them off while he got busy sucking off that cock.

The pre-seminal fluid oozed from every pore of that member. A talon swiped up some of the fluid to smear it all over Magnus' lips. The warlock looked up to stare into the actual burning eyes of the ifrit. He let his mouth hang open. The Ifrit guided the member to his mouth. Magnus enclosed his lips around it. He licked, kissed, moved his lips around that smooth crown. The taste was sour. He tried to stay focused, to not be swayed too much, to make sure that the other werewolves would be just as ripe when he was done with the ifrit. He stroked those cocks upwards and his hands were met with a thrusting of hips. He closed his eyes, concentrating on teasing the underside of that tip in between his lips. He nuzzled the shaft.

The skin was getting hot and blazing. His cheeks were sticky and he licked the member again from root to tip. He repeated it once, twice, letting his tongue drag along and he felt the Ifrit clench his muscles underneath his clothes. Magnus licked the upper side right toward the cloaca where the member stemmed from. The reaction was immediate. There was a low rumbling sound and not one but two taloned hands on the nape of his neck. Magnus tongued his way beneath the folds of its flesh. The sour taste made his buds tingle and Magnus moaned again. He stretched his tongue as far as he could in between the folds. The Ifrit became tense and still didn't rock his hips forward. It was almost _polite_. He let his tongue lick one last time around the folds before he decided to kiss his way up again. There was so much more now. So much more for Magnus to taste.

He wrapped his lips around the head of that member. He tried to relax his jaw. Of course he couldn't go far but it was enough get some of the length in. Magnus moved his lips in synchronicity with his hands, going up while his hands were going down. Internally smiling when he realized he had found a rhythm that worked for all of them. Because it worked and it worked well. Because there were groans and moans. The more Magnus let his tongue play around the more the patting on his head became regular. After another stroke on the whole shaft, he decided to pick up another pace. He sucked hard, tightening his lips to hollow his cheeks and create a counter suction. The patting on his head stopped and Magnus looked up again to gaze into the now blueish and red flames of the ifrit's eyes. He went harder, making sure that the whole crown would get all the attention it needed.

The taloned hands left his head and Magnus knew that release was close. He watched in astonishment as the talons circled the member quite firmly. Magnus stilled his lips. It came in short bursts, oozed from even beneath and between the talons. It was quite soundless but the way the ifrit tensed made it clear he was relieving quite some pressure off. Magnus swallowed it all, ready to have more, to have his tongue work and lap away at the seed secreting from every pore of that huge and delicious member. Even when there was nothing else to suck at and the ifrit took a step backwards, Magnus found himself chasing the taloned hand with his mouth, sucking at the tips and palms. He wanted to have it all. The low and pleased rumble put fire in Magnus' veins like never before. The ifrit turned his hand toward Magnus, a talon circled his chin to make him look up again. Magnus felt a desperate whine cross his lips when a talon soaked with seed made his way past his lips.

The claw was hard and the fingers had ridges. There was a carefulness to how that hand kept still so he could lick everything off. He eagerly sucked up everything that wasn't already dripping on the floor or on his clothes. The ifrit let him polish this whole hand clean. The more Magnus sucked the more he realized how incredibly arousing this all was. He shuddered. He felt how much _this _and _him not touching himself_ was straining him, balancing him, _edging _him. Floating in the space between getting to orgasm and not was mind numbing and everything he needed right now.

Magnus hummed pleasantly once there was nothing left to take anymore. He wouldn't have minded kissing the Ifrit again, to thank him. But he had two more people to attend to. So when the ifrit zipped his pants back up, Magnus turned toward the two werewolves that were using his hands to rut themselves into.

Magnus brought the both of them to his mouth. They both growled, pleased. He let the cocks roll around his fingers and let his tongue move in between them. They both keened, withered. Magnus whimpered at their taste and how they started to tug at his already painful scalp. They shoved themselves into his mouth as if to check how much Magnus' mouth could stretch. He swirled with his tongue again and again and would take one of them in as far as he could to then switch to the other. Their hands were in his hair and on their cocks. He would grab one a bit more firmly in his hand and the werewolf would just go limp under his mouth. He sucked hard and fast, bracing himself on his numb and bruised knees to strengthen himself against the rutting of hips. He would swallow one till his throat quivered and gagged. He would do the same to the other. He slid the foreskin in fast pace and let his hand motion into an almost bruising counter stroke. They tasted amazing. The both of them.

One scratched at his wrist. There was a warning and Magnus squeezed that knot extremely hard. The werewolf howled. His lips formed a well-rounded 'O'. Magnus felt the flesh swell from underneath his fingers as the werewolf poured down his throat. The overflow almost would have made Magnus cough and choke had this not been the sixth guy he was swallowing tonight. Because it kept on coming and going _down_.

And it wasn't finished because the other werewolf eased Magnus off his companion or packmate's shaft, who was _still_ ejaculating down his mouth. Magnus opened his mouth wide, squeezing the other's knot while the second one started to release himself in Magnus' mouth as well. Because Magnus knew how to _swallow,_ he knew how to _receive_ what was given to him. He didn't even care if a few drops spilled on his top or his trousers or even on the floor. Because this was everything he had been looking for. Their enraptured faces, their bared teeth, their gleaming green eyes. It made Magnus feel so powerful, so _wanted_, so _vulnerable_. They came apart under _his _hands_ his _tongue. They had been the ones begging, one even using his name.

He lapped at the thick vein that ran across the werewolf's shaft while he waited for the knot to unswell from under his fingers. The werewolf let him go while the other just stuttered and growled and it seemed ages before the hard knot softened and that gorgeous knotted cock was still leaking while doing it. The last werewolf tucked himself back in, muttering something under his breath which Magnus was unable to catch over the music.

He was suddenly hauled to his feet. He recognized the smell of cigarettes and whiskey before he even recognized the broad muscled body that pressed him against the wall, lifting him up. The tongue in his mouth explored every single corner, quite filthily licking up the semen that Magnus still had to swallow. _Fuck. _He hadn't known this could feel just as good. He opened his mouth even more, responding to the kiss. Magnus' knees were shaking. The blood flow was finally making its way through his limbs again. He locked his heels over the grinding hips. Their mouths were falling into the same rhythm as the music around them. There was nothing else on earth right now.

He let his hands roam through the blonde hair while pieces of clothing were getting caught by Magnus' belts and spikes while fingers got lost in between the holes of Magnus' top. A clothed erection rubbed against his own and Magnus let out a whimper. He had been hard for so long now… the slightest press on it just made him see millions of stars. There was a soft chuckle when Magnus undulated his hips following the rocking movement, chasing a certain friction he had denied his body the whole evening. The kissing went on and on, even after Magnus was put back on his feet, even when the hands were less groping and more holding on to him. The scruff of beard made his lips feel raw and wet. Magnus' hands were locked on the belt to keep the other man close.

"Sorry, you were hot." It didn't sound like an apology at all. Magnus pressed their foreheads together, listening to the ragged breath. He kept his eyes closed.

"That was an unsafe thing to do, you don't know if any of them are clean," he said. Talking hurt his throat. The few other kisses that followed were there to shut him up. It was a kiss full of arrogance and the typical _'I'm John Constantine, Magnus, I know what I am doing'_ line he would drop to the warlock every now and then. Magnus bit that wet and fleshy lip before breaking the kiss again.

"Have you taken care of the business you came here to do?" He needed water, if not a little spell to make the pain go away. But he refused to wince. He had been well fucked, well taken care of. He couldn't possibly complain.

"I found my target, yes." John was slightly taller and looked at him through hooded eyelids. Magnus wondered if they were going to kiss again. He traced the lapels of the beige trench coat John seemed to be wearing all the time. His cheeks were flushed, but the flashing red and blue lights made it impossible for others to see that if they weren't up close.

"You never said who it was ?" He arched an eyebrow; they had exchanged a few words when they had met a few hours before. But rather than to stay and chat Magnus had preferred to go to the dancefloor and let himself go loose. He hoped John wasn't here to fight. It would become messy real fast especially since there were other Downworlders around.

"The High Warlock of London." John kept a smile at the corner of lips. He was looking at Magnus intently to see what he would have to say about it.

"Ragnor ? What do you want with him ?" Magnus didn't let himself be swayed. If anything it made him take a step backwards. He liked the way Constantine looked disheveled, more than usual. Magnus briefly wondered how the man would have reacted if he had pulled on those thick blonde strands of hair.

"Aye, I'm in need of something only he can give me." Magnus didn't feel convinced. John always planned out different ways to obtain artefacts. He would often take the road that would put others the least in danger. This wasn't the safest road at all.

"I advise you to tread carefully. Dealing with a High Warlock is a dangerous thing to do, John. Especially when coming in unannounced. Are you sure about this ?" The playfulness between them was over, it was all business now.

"I won't go down without a bloody fight if there is one to come." John shifted from one foot to the other. He looked tired and tried to hide it behind a grin.

"I won't save your life, this is his domain to reign over. I'm not a High Warlock myself I have no say over how he decides to rule his kingdom." Magnus crossed his arms over his chest. As of now he had worked several times with the magician. His magic was strong but not as strong as any of the high authorities of the Shadow Conclave. He might be able to take one or two warlocks down. But not an entire army. If John picked out a fight he would get incinerated before he would even realize what was happening to him.

"Well if I were to die I can't say I would die with any regret of having kissed those lips, love." Magnus tried to not feel flattered, tried not to let his heart embrace the hidden praise. But John Constantine always had a way to worm himself into his heart. He also couldn't find anything to quip back. He had needed that compliment right now.

"Follow me, I'll take you to him."

Magnus turned around. He conjured up a glass of water from the bartender. He cast another healing spell on the liquid before downing it. The relief on his throat was instant. It didn't take away the throbbing, but at least he wouldn't sound like he was 800 years older than he was. Every step made his feet tingle and he was glad he had chosen combat boots instead of his heels or platforms tonight. Because he would be limping. The ache felt wonderful.

John followed him closely as they navigated through the crowd. Some men were eyeing the warlock. But Magnus' expression was closed off enough to dissuade them to even try and touch him.

He made his way to the back end of the crowd, past the dancefloor. Ragnor preferred to be on the ground floor rather than up. It gave him control over the leylines and it made him able to be closer to the crowd around him. He was reclining on the broad and over-the-top fake leather couch, nursing a cocktail while talking to a few warlocks around him. Everybody kept a respectable distance from the immediate environment of the High Warlock. Nobody treaded upon His personal space without invitation. Magnus gestured to Constantine to stay where we has, right at the edge of the crowd.

Magnus made his way forward, and immediately the guards around Ragnor had their eyes on him. Even if they knew of his relationship with Ragnor, they were here to protect their king at all cost. Ragnor was laughing at something a blue haired warlock said to him until his eyes fell on Magnus. Ragnor laid his drink down on the table on his side. Almost instinctively Magnus sank to his knees once he was in Ragnor's close vicinity. His Majesty and the power He exuded was nothing Magnus would ever fight again. Ragnor leaned forward, spreading his knees to let Magnus crawl up to him.

"Anything I can do for you ? I saw you had fun with the men I picked out for you. You looked absolutely stunning, being on your knees for them." He reached out a hand to Magnus and Magnus pressed his cheek against the palm. He smiled. He had had fun, a lot of fun even. He looked up at Ragnor. No words needed to be said out loud; Ragnor _knew _how to take care of him in the best way possible. He was more than thankful to his friend. There was reverence, admiration, exaltation, Magnus was eternally grateful and that was yet another thing that didn't need to be said out loud. They had been helping each other out for centuries by now, they knew each other's thoughts before they were even spoken.

"I am sorry to ask this of you but I have someone with me who wants to see the High Warlock of London." The four digit hand played with Magnus' spiked hair. The conversation they exchanged was drowned by the music. No one else would be able to hear them even if they tried.

"I wasn't planning on holding court today, a friend of yours ?" He caressed Magnus' jaw. His tone was gentle and caring. Magnus knew his friend didn't sound as annoyed as he seemed to be.

"Occasional work colleague at best, we worked on the case of demonic possession of corpses a year or two back." Ragnor didn't look up and hummed. His fingers still caressed Magnus' face while he made up his mind. Magnus knew Ragnor wouldn't say no. Things had been pretty calm in London as of late. Unless John Constantine had gotten on his bad side already. But Magnus' doubted it. Magicians usually tried to respect the Shadow Conclave's authority. Especially in London.

"I cannot refuse you, my friend." He pulled Magnus in a chaste kiss, just lips nothing more, before letting his friend up.

As expected the whole area's energy shifted. The music dimmed. A wave of energy made its way through the whole room. Heads turned toward Ragnor. People around him moved closer. As if attracted, pulled forward, called, summoned. There was still a crowd dancing but they weren't part of this, they hadn't been chosen. Magnus noticed how John clenched his jaw, hid his hands in his pockets, as Ragnor's aura and presence seeped in every pore of everyone's body. Even mundanes couldn't fight it off. Nobody could fight off a High Warlock's Dominion magic. Not when court was held, not when the call for loyalty was made.

Magnus stepped to the side, taking the neutral ground. Ragnor gestured to John to approach.

"Step forward." Magnus would never get used to the honey and terrifying feeling that poured over him when Ragnor issued an order. Even for him, one of Ragnor's closest friends, he couldn't fight it off either.

"State your name and business in my kingdom, mage." John seemed to try and keep himself grounded. He was perhaps trying to fight off the mind and body control that Ragnor would incite. Hopefully he wouldn't try anything irrational.

"John Constantine, protector of the Swamp Elemental, successor to the lineage of the Laughing Magicians." John wasn't usually this formal. Magnus let it play out. As he had said previously, if John were to offend Ragnor, he would be on his own.

"Oh, so very interesting, the mundane occult circles of London have yet to answer for the unauthorised summoning ritual that took place at the national opera house. Are you here on their behalf ?" The displeased tone made everyone shiver. To attract the wrath of the High Warlock of London was a bad omen. His temper tantrums had the possibility to be devastating and to be even murderous at times.

"I'm afraid not." John had swallowed quite audibly. Perhaps he was feeling the heat underneath his feet because he had just contradicted the most powerful man in the room. Ragnor wasn't cruel. Magnus was confident that his friend wouldn't just murder his friend because he had guessed wrong.

"Are you here because you are sick ?" Magnus' eyes shot up. There was no response from John. Magnus hadn't known him to be sick. But then again, they only crossed paths once every two years. Magnus didn't know how to feel about this. He liked the man.

"I'm afraid have no remedy for you, mage. Mundane diseases are none of my concern." Ragnor sounded bored. He magicked another drink in his hand and took a long sip before letting John answer his question.

"I am not looking for… a cure for my lungs…" The tone John used wasn't gentle at all and his jaw was yet again clenched. Something very personal had been revealed to the whole court without any consent given, it was normal to be pissed off. But how much would he dare to reveal his anger ? "I've got that covered thank you very much." He didn't let Ragnor interject. "I was merely requesting an enchantment, a ward. I've heard the teachings of Jezebeth were specilialised in falsehoods and illusions. I'm in need of a warded object that will create a cloak of obfuscation when worn."

Magnus felt as if he was on edge of his seat. Ragnor was either going to punish the man for his arrogance to have mentioned his mother, or let it slide. There was a silence. Ragnor swirled his drink, sipped, and looked back to the mundane mage. There was a smile on the corner of his lips. Ragnor liked to be challenged up to some point. But Magnus could see how the cogwheels of his friend's mind were pushed into a higher gear to analyze a best approach that would benefit the High Warlock greatly.

"Of course, and what are you offering in return ?" He made his drink vanish after finishing it.

John took a step forward, a smile was adorning his lips. He was glad the request had been accepted. "A favour –"

"Your lighter," Ragnor interrupted. Magnus raised his eyebrows. Would John bite ? Did John even know what such a personal object could do ? He had to know. He was a master of the Occult not just a petty Magician. The way he glanced at Magnus confirmed his theory. John Constantine knew exactly what giving this lighter could mean for him. Ragnor could use it to overrule his loyalty and allegiances or manipulate him, or worse.

But nobody bargained with the High Warlock of London. You either accepted or you went on your way. John reluctantly took out his lighter while muttering something under his breath about needing to buy another one for his cigarettes later tonight. Magnus stepped forward to take the lighter to Ragnor.

He ran an identifying spell through the object. He mouthed a 'sorry I have to be sure' to him. John was part of the Laughing Magicians. They had the reputation to even trick gods during bargains. The second spell he cast confirmed it was indeed John's lighter and not a decoy. He made his way to Ragnor.

Ragnor caught his wrist, dragged him to his knees. He plucked the lighter from Magnus' hand and made it vanish into thin air.

"I want you to shag him," Ragnor whispered. It made a shiver creep up Magnus' spine. A tinge of renewed arousal settled in his gut as Ragnor's fingers tilted his head backwards. A hand rested against his throat, against his choker. The soft fabric with the occult symbol started to glow as Ragnor enchanted his choker. "Make him come all over you, make him desperate. I want to see him beg." Magnus swallowed hard as the possessive grip over his throat made him feel like going limp.

"I know it's what you want and I'm giving you the opportunity to do it. Unless I read you wrong and you don't want to ?" Magnus shook his head. It was almost unnoticeable but Ragnor's sly grin showed he understood the silent 'yes I want to' his friend needed to hear.

"I hope you have fun, my friend." He sat back to let Magnus get back on his feet. The High Warlock directed his gaze toward Constantine who was trying to look unperturbed.

"It only needs to be charged with magical energy," said Ragnor. "I am convinced that a mage of your stature knows how to do such things. So I will not bother with an explanation." There was a coy smile dancing on his lips. Sex magic wasn't needed, there were plenty different ways to charge a magical object with energy. But where was the _fun_ in that ? "You are welcome to use the facilities of my club if you wish so."

With a snap of his fingers the four legged footstool in front of the small table enlarged itself. With another movement of hands, a bowl of condoms and lube appeared as well. John stared at the table with a frown. It had been an invitation, not an order. His eyes settled on Magnus who was making his way to him. There was a slight sway in his hips and he was catching on to that. Magnus stood right in front of him. A sultry smile on his face.

"Well this is… not what I expected," he muttered. He had done sex magic, several times even. But the environment was quite different this time. He didn't shy away from public sex. But there was no deal to be made here if the other parties involved weren't into it. "Do you want to do this, Magnus ? Together ?" He let his thumb caress Magnus' cheek, almost completely distracted by the way Magnus leaned into him.

"I enjoy working together with you. If you'll indulge me helping you with infusing my choker, which apparently just became your choker, with magic. I'll be honored. Despite…" Magnus sucked a thumb into his mouth. John couldn't keep in a gasp. Blood rushed south as fast as it could. It reminded him of how much he had liked snogging those lips. "We both know that some warlock energy will make it stronger."

He couldn't disagree with Magnus and it made the warlock smile. He muttered another swearword under his breath. "Alright, let's do this then." He grabbed Magnus' hand and focused on the choker. Magnus dropped his glamour and manifested his energy to interlink it with his partner. They weaved their telos, their objective, into the choker. Ropes of Magic enrolled around Magnus' neck to settle in between the tissue.

Magnus looked up at John. For the first time this evening he had dropped his glamour. There wasn't a flinch or a glint of mistrust. Most spells they cast together had required Magnus to drop his glamour. Even if John had stared at them for 10 minutes the first time it happened, there was nothing that showed any discomfort. If anything, John was currently blushing slightly.

"Like what you see ?" He couldn't help but let a smile curl up at the corner of his mouth. John didn't react and took another step forward. Magnus leaned up into the fingers that had caressed up his jaw.

"You're so hot." The British drawl became heavier as the fingers traced Magnus' bottom lip. Magnus' smile became mischievous as he caught a thumb between his lips. John's eyes were immediately showing arousal and they dropped on his choker that started to glow as Magnus traced his tongue around the thumb.

"You're repeating yourself," he whispered with a tone of voice that had made men and women alike go weak on their knees in the past. He shifted to lean in more. John's grasp on his hand reinforced itself.

"Well it's so bloody true and you know it." John muffled his reply by locking their lips together. Magnus let himself melt. He hadn't expected John to be gentle, not when earlier they had shared that heated kiss, not when even after that John was lapping at his mouth and letting out a moan. It spoke to Magnus in a whole different way. They were about to dance and fuck around in a whole different way.

The choker around his neck started to get warm.

Hands roamed over his hips and John pressed their bodies together. Magnus could feel the heat through his body, liked the way those hands groped his ass, cupped his cheeks. John then reached out for his coat to shrug it off. Magnus could feel the slight tremble of anticipation as their lips were still locked. It was thrilling. They hadn't performed that kind of spell together before and Magnus was really _curious_ to see what John had in him. He reached out for the brown leather belt. There was a groan from John as Magnus palmed his erection.

John tensed in anticipation as Magnus sank to his knees. The pain was dulled but Magnus felt his head already relax into the strain of it. He made sure to look up at John as he undid the belt. He felt the magician inhale sharply, completely enraptured by Magnus' gestures. John even stopped while being halfway undoing his tie. Magnus massaged the length, wetting his lips in the process. He couldn't keep himself from nuzzling the crotch area either, lose himself in the hard scent of whiskey and cigarettes. His fingertips took a hold of the semi-hard shaft. John's breath hitched in his throat. He grounded his feet on the floor and let Magnus play over his clothed prick, thinking of Magnus swallowing him already made him almost damn everything to hell and get it on with it. But that wasn't how the ritual was supposed to work. You had to take your time.

And Magnus took his time, caressing the firm thighs and the stomach, playing with the buttons of his shirt, squeezing that firm ass. He enjoyed any tensing of the muscles or the visible spot that was arousing. He even opened that button and slid down that zipper ever so slowly as well.

John was straining against his boxers and _damn _Magnus felt his lips immediately attracted to the wet spot on the right side. He inhaled deeply, blew some hot air and the hips jerked up to his mouth.

"You're toying with me, Magnus," it was breathy and needy. Magnus couldn't stop a smile from forming on his lips. He had decided to make a show of it. He tugged on the trousers so they would fall to John's ankles. He reached out for the cock trapped in the underwear. John exhaled in pleasure at the contact. With a firm grip on that shaft Magnus slowly pulled down the underwear. He made sure to keep eye contact again as he lowered his mouth onto that uncut cock. The sparks of magic tasted sweet upon his tongue. He let the foreskin slide over the glans so he could press a kiss to the crown.

He flattened his tongue and played with the shaft. John bit the inside of his cheek, clenching his jaw. Magnus spread his knees and for the first time tonight he grabbed himself through his trousers. The relief made him almost forget what he was doing and he swallowed John eagerly. The hard flesh was exquisite. Nobody ever tasted the same and nobody ever looked the same either. It was rapturous like every other cock he had gone down on tonight. He was going to take his time. Take what was needed for the intended purpose of enjoying himself and create a real sense of connection so that the magic would seep deep into that choker.

He let his mouth slide slowly over and around the shaft, sometimes just keeping that cock warm into his mouth to let his tongue play with the underside. It was nice, more carnal as well. He always alternated with either gentle swipes of tongue and other times really moving his lips to suck on that cock. It didn't take long for John to start thrusting with his hips and guiding Magnus' hand with the counter upward-stroke. He liked it when there was bit more pressure given on the left side of his crown so Magnus followed the little hints. Because every time he got it right another grunt escaped John's lips.

He sucked longingly and with an obscene pop he let the erection come out of his mouth. John grabbed his shaft at the base and tilted it so Magnus could have a greater access to his testicles. Magnus complied as he let his tongue explore the soft flesh between them. The sigh that escaped John's lips made Magnus almost whimper in want. His hand twitched to just get rid of their clothes and penetrate each other's bodies on a whole new level. He sucked at the sack without too much pressure. Let one of the testicle roll around his tongue. He breathed John in deeply. The taste of sweat and skin was utterly magnificent. He knew he would gladly suck this man off without getting anything else in return.

He let his tongue dip lower beyond the testicles and as he opened his mouth wide, he let his tongue brush over the perineum. The sound that came from John was filthy. Magnus was straining his tongue but every bucking of the hips against it was worth it. He teased it a bit longer until the impatient growling of John made him stop. He licked from all the way down, on that one fold of skin all the way up to the tip of the cock. In one smooth move John made him swallow his shaft again. He sucked it all the way up and buried his nose against the pubic hair as he let the cock hit the back of his throat. He gagged but stayed there one second longer enjoying the twitch John was giving him.

He came up for air, kept his cough under his breath. John finished unbuttoning his shirt. He helped Magnus up and they were kissing again, tongues exploring each other's mouths and tearing away moans from every lick they exchanged. Hands sneaked their way around Magnus' waist as rings were caught in between blonde strands of hair. John hissed when Magnus' belts raked against his erection. He broke away from their kiss. He traced the choker with his thumbs before he lowered his hands. He brushed the pierced nipples while caressing his way down to Magnus' sides. Magnus arched into the touch, feeling the spikes of pleasure running through his veins. He pushed their foreheads together as John reached for his belts, undoing them one by one. His heart was thrumming in anticipation.

"Of course," John was suddenly out of breath as he touched Magnus over the fishnet of the body stocking he was wearing underneath his clothes. He wasn't wearing any underwear either and that was probably what John was referring to. "I wouldn't have guessed it to be any other way." Fingers played around the holes and Magnus moaned as they gripped his cock through the fabric. He liked the sensation, liked fingers upon him, liked how John decided to palm him through it instead. The chords and string texture moved upon him and he rubbed himself against John's warmth.

He dragged John back into a kiss, bringing their crotches together. That wasn't nearly enough and soon Magnus just pulled away. He got rid of his combat boots and his red checkered trousers that were pooling around his ankles. John followed his idea and tossed his trousers and socks next to his trench coat before he lifted Magnus up. They both sighed at their bodies finally being more in contact with each other. It was nice and the magic roped itself around Magnus' neck. Magnus lapped at the lips and more kisses and hair pulling followed. John's muscles were bulging because of the weight of him. Magnus squirmed, so he could feel more of that promising strength that was being displayed, before he was effortlessly guided to lie down on the transfigured four legged footstool.

Magnus couldn't keep his hands from roaming, from tugging at that red tie. He liked how John's hands were catching and exploring the fishnets of his body stocking; how much into it he seemed. How he pulled on it. John lifted his top. There was a mouth around his nipple and Magnus' mind went everywhere. He rolled his hips against John. The wet tongue teased him and he moaned, even swore. It made his cock twitch.

He was reduced to a panting hot and bothered mess as John's tongue moved to the other nipple. How it made it hard, let the barbell roll upon his tongue. He grounded his feet to lift his hips, he wanted so much more than just that. John met his hips every time as he gave them the friction they needed. Magnus knew he would be able to orgasm just from this. The way that John pinned him down with his body and how that tongue was rolling around his nipple made him feel ecstatic, even worshipped because John took his _time._ His time to taste him, feel him, explore him as he gave open mouthed kisses all over his body and how he _licked him_.

Magnus rolled his hips and buried his hands in John's hair as a tongue traveled over his length. His whole mind sank down into oblivion when those lips mouthed him through the fishnets. The wetness of the fabric made his mind float. It wasn't often he would indulge in these sensations. He was glad John followed him in his current desires. Two fingers hooked themselves through the holes and Magnus' breath hitched as John _pulled_, made the cock press against the fabric, made it _strain_. The sensation made him bite his lower lip especially when John continued to tease him through it. He spread his legs even more. His muscles tensed up more with every swipe of tongue.

John fumbled to try and find the bottle of lubricant. Magnus was vaguely aware of Ragnor's magic. He opened his eyes, dazed. Ragnor sat back, a drink in one hand the finish gesture of a telekinetic spell in the other. He felt his cock twitch and the choker's warmth increased. He looked down at John who uncapped the bottle. Fingers frayed themselves a way in between the fishnets to settle on his sphincter. He exchanged a glance with John, giving his consent. He laid back and inhaled calmly.

He moaned, even to his own ears he sounded obscene. One digit, a second, a third. _Fuck._ That felt like he had been craving this the whole evening. John raised his legs to settle them on his shoulders. Magnus really wouldn't have minded being eaten out, but right now that tongue on his cock and one– no _two_ fingers inside of him would do. He lost control of his breathing as he writhed and raised his legs even more to facilitate the access. How he hummed or panted the magician's name in a litany of praise when those fingers moved in and out him, lube quite facilitating their intrusion and _by Lilith_ how they brushed over his prostate… It made him quiver with need.

His orgasm was building up plaintively, the gestures were sensuous and well thought through. It was utter torture as he reached for his nipples through and under his top, letting them roll around his fingers and sometimes pinching them. It made his knees jerk and his hips followed. He asked and pleaded for more. But there was no rush, this wasn't a race and Magnus opened his eyes again to stare at the ceiling to see the lights flash from blue to red. He could feel every single eye of Ragnor's court on him, he could feel them wanting him, wanting _them_. Envious stares and entranced gazes were travelling over their bodies. He wet his lips, reached out to lick one of his fingers before going back to stimulate his nipples under his top again.

He was moaning harder and louder by the time he felt those fingers twist inside of him. He felt his whole pelvic area tense up and the way that wet tongue wrapped itself through the holes of the fishnets was enough to make him realise how undeniably _close_ he was. How every thrust fingered him open more and more, how every friction made him pant and whimper. How groans escaped his lips every time those knuckles breached his rim over and over again. He gestured John to stimulate more on his left side.

The immediate compliance made his mind stutter. There was nothing but his own fingers on his nipples, tugging and circling with the same rhythm as that tongue was licking and sucking parts of him. There was nothing but that warm mouth on the underside of cock gently sucking at the flesh and fingers buried deep inside of him, teasing, drawing everything out. Magnus was sweating. His hands were trembling under every thrust inside of him. Those fingers filling him, touching him, _teasing _him, he could feel his mind break into a million pieces. His body was not even sure if it could follow the pleasure that every rubbing of the fingers was drawing out of it.

His mind went black as John sped up, he was so open and relaxed and taking it so _well_. And Magnus was made to feel at the mercy of those fingers inside of him. He was taut and tense _and on fire_. Everything was made of pure pleasurable burn and orgasmic bliss. He reached his breaking point too soon for himself. But given how he was being taken apart, he couldn't even resist the temptation for just letting it all go. He had worked hard for this kind of release, he _deserved_ it, owed it to himself. Magnus's one hand clawed at John's scalp and the other held John at the wrist as he fucked himself on those fingers. His hips rocked back, letting those fingers go deeper and deeper, to feeling every single movement and twitch of fingers.

"I'm–" He jolted and his ball drew up. John licked him from root to tip, sucked in what he could. When Magnus came it was with a full-on body shudder. His orgasm tasted like the softest of magic upon his tongue. John licked it all up, lifting the fabric to get to every single drop sucked out the fishnets and working hard to leave nothing hanging. Once done, Magnus welcomed these wonderful lips eagerly. The familiar taste of him on another's tongue did not scare him in the slightest. His choker vibrated around his neck.

Hands were again in his hair, hands on his nipples and Magnus didn't mind the oversensitivity of it. He knew he could get hard from this again if they just kept going at it. John thrusted against his softening cock and Magnus licked John's lower lip, even bit on it, which made the magician groan. The way he rutted against Magnus made the warlock grin in elation, taking a man so powerful and reduce him to such a writhing mess was every man's fantasy. John broke their sloppy kisses. He used one hand for balance next to Magnus' head, the other to rub his cock against Magnus' pelvic area. The short aborted thrusts were met with a movement of hips.

"Could you close your legs for me ?" the voice was so broken down and desperate. "_Please._" Magnus licked his lips at the plea. He felt the siphoned energy travel over their bodies; the sweet taste of them went through his nose and lungs before wrapping itself around the choker around his neck. It was so hot against his skin, without burning.

John let him close his legs and Magnus tensed up his thighs to let John fuck him between them. He raised himself upon his elbows so he could keep some balance. John's focused and debauched gaze at his cock appearing and disappearing between his thighs made Magnus pant in want. John held onto his legs, using them as leverage to keep his balance up. It was a sight burnt into his skin forever. How even John Constantine could lose himself against Magnus Bane's body. He felt good for it, cherished for it.

Even when, after one particular hard thrust, their eyes met and Magnus could feel his heart flutter with satisfaction. His muscles were straining against the hot flesh between his thighs.

John then decided to keep eye contact and Magnus knew he was gone for. The strength and bruising of hands was delightful. The way the fishnets moved and brushed against his skin as the friction increased and the moans transformed into open mouthed growls was more than just gratifying. John's thrusts became more irregular and Magnus knew he was close. He sucked in a breath as the muscles of his stomach bulged at the strain of keeping his legs up like that. He let his eyes drop to the cock between his thighs and how John suddenly halted. The surge of magic was instant. It latched onto Magnus' throat. The choker vibrated, broke as John ejaculated all over him. The wetness almost reached Magnus' chin. The choker fell down on the ground, probably overcharged with energy. It was giving off a sizzling sound but Magnus only had eyes on John. He pulled on the tie of the magician who was limply starting to lie down next to him.

"You're gorgeous, love." The kisses were slow, deep, reassuring. Magnus lost himself in the movement of their lips; it made him forget where they were. Even the music faded out. There was just him and the body of the other man. There was just him and the praise of his beauty and a job well done. John yielded as Magnus grabbed the lapels of his shirt, pushed the magician down to lie on his back. Magnus straddled him, feeling the stickiness of sperm glide down over his navelless stomach to between his thighs. It was filthy and yet the warlock didn't feel like he could stop. Magnus could feel Ragnor dismiss his court, could feel how the atmosphere changed, how the magical bubble around them faded to create a more intimate one. How people moved and went on their ways as they paid their respects to the High Warlock of London before taking their leave. It didn't matter; the only thing that mattered were the lips upon him and the soft caresses on his back and the soothing sensation of hands on his muscles.

"Alright, I think we did okay." A hint of sarcasm was coating his blissed-out tone as John halted their kiss to catch their breaths. Magnus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. They had done more than okay, they had overcharged a magical object with more power than it had needed. Magnus looked at the choker where the magical pentagram surrounding it was slowly fading away. He took his time to breathe, to feel their bodies that were pressed together. The warmth and the sharp scent of sweat between them was invigorating. John was playing with the rings in his ears when Magnus reached out for the choker. He didn't want to risk teleporting it with a spell. He fumbled a bit which made the magician laugh under him. Magnus grinned, they were probably quite the laughful sight. John's strong arms then circled his waist so he could keep his balance to grab the choker.

It still resonated with energy when he managed to get a hold of it. It tingled at the touch. John kissed his hand when Magnus brought it up to him. The intense gaze in those blue eyes made Magnus feel weak in his knees. The Englishman was gorgeous like this: Freshly fucked, a satisfied smile and swollen lips from the so many kisses they had shared. As if compelled he leaned forward to kiss the magician. It was a quieter kiss. Less sloppy, less open mouthed, less tongue. Just a movement of lips and a calm rhythm that would take his breath away. He melted, let himself feel. John broke the kiss and nuzzled his neck as he clasped his hand around Magnus' to pry the choker out of his hand.

"Looks like someone managed to do what your top says." Magnus frowned until he realized where John's chin was pointing at. In black capital letters on the white background his top said : 'SNAP MY CHOKER'. Magnus let out a breathy laugh. John pulled Magnus into another kiss. He settled himself between John's thighs. They were well spent, well relaxed. John kissed him and then circled Magnus' waist, pressing their bodies together again. Magnus felt how he inhaled Magnus' bodily scent. There was an unmistaken sigh of content.

"Do you want to come back to my place ?" He whispered against the warlock's temple before he laid out a kiss there. His voice was vulnerable but still playful. It sounded like he was scared that Magnus would say no. He captured the magician's lips for a languid kiss and a thrust of hips that made John groan with want as he locked his legs around Magnus' waist. It promised for more things to come, especially when John rubbed his half-hard cock against his sticky stomach.

"It would be my greatest pleasure to finally see your house of mysteries, John Constantine."


End file.
